


Powerful (with a little bit of tender)

by One_Gay_More



Category: The Prom - Sklar/Beguelin/Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/F, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 12:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20778833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Gay_More/pseuds/One_Gay_More
Summary: Luscious, brown curls fell past her shoulders, obscuring most of her face. She had dark, creamy skin that Emma suddenly longed to reach out and touch, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. Even her abs, while defined, weren’t rough cut, but looked more smooth. She grabbed the pole with one hand, and from that movement, the toned muscles of her arms were visible. And her legs? Holy shit. Emma’s throat was suddenly dry, and her eyes were glued to the stage for the first time all night.Stripper AU





	Powerful (with a little bit of tender)

**Author's Note:**

> I have never been to a strip club i don’t know if any of this is accurate but I saw hustlers and had a sudden need for a stripper au so i blacked out and wrote this. Enjoy.

Emma Nolan would not be here if not for her friend’s insistence.

It was his birthday and he wanted to do something fun to celebrate, and Emma had agreed to tag along before she realized that Nick’s idea of fun was taking all his friends out to a strip club.

Emma was a lesbian, sure, but for some reason straight men would always she looked at women with the same, objectifying gaze as them, when in reality she spent most of her life too scared to even look at women for fear of being seen as predatory. She was more comfortable than she used to be, but Emma thought it was a fear she might always have.

That was why she sat in The Glitter Factory, and while Nick and his friends whooped and cheered for the half naked women on the stage, Emma kept her eyes firmly glued to the floor. She would occasionally glance up when there was a particularly loud cheer, but when she saw a woman spread eagle or flashing tits, she would immediately clear her throat, swallow, and look away again.

As the song ended, the women cleared off the stage and began making their way to the people in the crowd. Kevin waved over one woman and gave her $20 for a lap dance, sticking the cash into her bra with a shaking hand. Well, at least Emma wasn’t the only one who was a little nervous.

“You’re not gonna see anyone you like if you keep staring at the floor,” Nick said, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd of the club.

“I just don’t think this is my thing!” Emma shouted back.

“Come on, Emma, lighten up and have some fun. I thought you’d be into this!”

Emma wanted to say,  _ Just because I’m a lesbian it doesn’t mean I like objectifying women,  _ but the response died on her tongue as the lights dimmed and the music flared again and a new set of women walked on stage that caught Emma’s eye.

Well, one woman.

Luscious, brown curls fell past her shoulders, obscuring most of her face. She had dark, creamy skin that Emma suddenly longed to reach out and touch, just to see if it was as soft as it looked. Even her abs, while defined, weren’t rough cut, but looked more smooth. She grabbed the pole with one hand, and from that movement, the toned muscles of her arms were visible. And her legs? Holy shit.

Emma’s throat was suddenly dry, and her eyes were glued to the stage for the first time all night.

Nick seemed to notice this change. Emma’s back straightened and she licked her lips as she sat at the edge of her seat, waiting in anticipation for this beautiful woman to dance.

She watched as the woman began to move to the music, spinning around the pole. She flipped her hair out of her face and suddenly Emma could see soft features, just like the rest of her. Full lips in a gentle smirk, a dimple on her cheek, and the warmest brown eyes Emma had ever seen. The woman’s eyes seemed to catch Emma’s for a moment, or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but then they were gone again, scanning across the rest of the crowd.

Not only was this woman remarkably, stunningly beautiful, but she was also damn talented and athletic. Her muscles tensed as she held all her weight in various poses on the pole, wrapping her legs around it, leaning back to give the audience a peek at her cleavage (which Emma quickly averted her eyes from).

There were three other women onstage, but Emma only had eyes for the one.

As the song came to an end, Emma found herself applauding along with the rest of the crowd. And as the women made their way offstage, she wasn’t imagining it this time, but their eyes locked and this gorgeous woman was walking straight toward Emma and her friends.

Emma’s face grew pale and her mouth gaped. She felt bad for staring, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away as the woman sauntered toward them, hips swaying with each step she took in her very tall high heeled shoes. Nick elbowed her in the arm. “Finally see something you like?”

“Shut up.”

“Hey fellas,” the woman said as she stepped up to the group, “and lady,” she tacked on at the end, with a wink in Emma’s direction that made Emma feel like she was going to throw up. “Can I get you anything?”

“Your name?” one of the boys called.

She gave an amused smile. “You can call me Angel.” Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had never been to a strip club before but that was a cliched stripper name if she ever heard one.

“I think my friend here would like a dance, Angel!” Nick said, gesturing to Emma next to him. The rest of the group whooped and cheered, but Emma was mortified.

“No!” she defended, a little too quickly. “No I’m fine, really. Just…” her eyes dragged up the woman’s body again, ending on her face where her bottom lip was nestled between her teeth as she chewed on it. Emma cleared her throat. “Just fine.”

“Maybe you’d like something a little more private?” Angel suggested, not tearing her eyes away from Emma’s. “We do have rooms for that.”

“No, I—“

“I think that sounds like a  _ great _ idea!” Nick interjected. He fumbled with a few bills and quickly shoved them into her hands. “My treat! Sorry, she’s just a little nervous but I’m sure you can help her unwind a bit.”

Angel laughed, and it sounded like a chorus of angels. Emma frowned at her inner monologue. “I’m sure.”

She tucked the money away somewhere—Emma didn’t even want to know  _ where _ , no matter how curious she was—and held out a hand. Emma stared at her hand for a moment. It looked so soft, and her fingernails were perfectly manicured. It was hard to tell what color they were in the light. Purple, maybe? Though her nails were much shorter than Emma had expected. Most other strippers here had very long, styled nails or acrylics, but Angel’s nails were trimmed short.

Emma quickly shoved away the immediate thought that drifted to her brain, ignoring the shiver that ran through her. She cleared her throat, downed the rest of her whiskey, and took the woman’s hand.

It was so soft.

Angel gave a gentle tug, and Emma rose to her feet. She seemed to tower over her, but she wasn’t sure if that was just the confidence she exuded or the heels she was wearing. The pair weaved through the crowded club with ease, the woman leading while Emma followed dumbly, terrified of how she would inevitably embarrass herself in front of this beautiful woman behind closed doors.

With each step, the pounding of the base pulsed through her veins, and the din of the crowd clouded her brain until she couldn’t hear herself think.  _ Shit, not now,  _ Emma thought as she struggled to catch her breath. The woman in front of her was perfectly oblivious.

As they retreated down the back hall, the music and crowd of the main club area faded to the background, clearing some of the fog in Emma’s brain. It was a bit of a relief, so Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  _ Inhale, hold, exhale, inhale, hold, exhale. _ She squeezed Angel’s hand a little too tight, hoping to anchor herself, hoping she wouldn’t notice how panicked she was.

She followed Angel through an open door and stepped ahead of her into an empty room. There was music playing in here, loud, but not loud enough that it overpowered everything else. There was a single pole in the middle of the room, and a couch sat along the back wall. Emma went pale and tried not to think about the last time it was cleaned.

Emma felt like she could breathe again in the room, away from the obnoxious crowd and wandering eyes, but she still felt a little on edge. As Angel closed the door and turned back to Emma, her confident smirk faltered into a concerned frown before she turned her lips back up into a smile.

A crack in her mask.

“Hey, are you okay?” Angel asked. “You look a little pale.”

“Yep,” Emma said, a little too quickly. “Just dandy.” The frown told her that Angel did not believe her. Emma watched as Angel stepped up to her and reached out a hand, but for some reason the soft touch against her arm shocked her.  _ Calm down _ , she told herself.

“Here, sit down,” Angel said, ushering her back toward the couch.

“Okay.” Emma let Angel guide her across the room and plopped down on the couch.

“Do you want some water?” she asked, and Emma dumbly nodded. She retreated from the room, the din from the rest of the club growing loud, then quiet again, as she opened and shut the door. It was only a few short minutes until she returned, clutching a glass of ice water that she quickly handed over.

“Thank you,” Emma muttered. She hoped the dark lighting of the room covered the blush on her cheeks. Who knew she would freeze up in panic upon being with a stripper for the first time? God, how embarrassing. She took a sip of water, and avoided Angel’s’ concerned gaze. “Sorry. I’m just a little out of my comfort zone. This, uh, isn’t really my scene. I don’t usually—what I mean is, I’m not used to—“

“It’s okay,” Angel interrupted. “I understand. Sorry if I strong armed you into coming here.”

Emma laughed, the nerves slowly settling in her gut. “No, that was my good friend Nick who did most of the strong arming. Sorry, again, you didn’t sign up to deal with a dumb, anxious lesbian.”

Angel chuckled and sat down next to her, giving them a nice six inch buffer that Emma greatly appreciated. “Well it’s not exactly in the job description, but I don’t mind.”

Emma chanced a glance up at the woman next to her. Her dark curls were now pulled up in a messy ponytail, leaving her eyes unobscured. And her eyes… were fucking gorgeous. The were the richest, deepest brown that Emma had seen in her entire life. It was like looking into a clear night sky from the middle of a field, but instead of seeing all the endless possibilities of the universe, she was looking into everything that made up this woman. Emma could see herself getting lost in these eyes for hours.

Angel cleared her throat, and Emma straightened her back and looked away briefly. Fuck. How long had she been staring?

“Sorry,” Emma frowned, but Angel only had an amused smirk on her face.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Emma muttered, looking down at her lap and twisting her thumbs together, fidgeting nervously. “I am now.”

She felt a hand on her thigh, a gentle, concerned touch, and looked up again to meet Angel’s eyes. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad.”

“Sorry to waste your time,” Emma sighed, unable to help her insecurities from surfacing, wanting to give this woman an out and hopefully leave this club and go home before Nick can try to force her to have anymore  _ fun _ .

Angel opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again, a thoughtful look taking over her features. “What’s your name?” she asked, finally.

Emma blinked, not expecting the question. “Um, Emma.”

“Well,  _ Um Emma _ ,” Angel replied with a teasing smile. “I promise you I’d much rather be in here with you than out there with any of those other people.”

Emma chuckled and looked down. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Not the guys, no.” Emma’s head shot up, wondering if she was reading correctly what Angel had implied. Angel only sent her a wink, before continuing, barely leaving Emma any time to process. “And hey, your friend already paid so if you are feeling a little better, I could… distract you.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “We—you don’t have to!”

“I know. I want to.” Her smile was reassuring and made Emma’s heart race. “But only if you want to.”

The air in the room suddenly felt so thick and suffocating, but in a really good, intoxicating sort of way. The anxiety had subsided to the back of Emma’s mind, and all she could think about was this beautiful woman. Fuck, she needed another drink. “I—I want to,” she mumbled. “But I don’t—I mean—I don’t want you to think I’m like, objectifying you. I’m not. I’m a lesbian. A feminist, I mean! I’m a feminist and I don’t—“

“I know,” Angel said, standing up in front of Emma, leaning over her. Emma tried so hard to keep her eyes locked on deep brown ones instead of the cleavage right in front of her. “The male gaze and the female gaze are two very different things.”

“They are,” Emma squeaked.

“And there’s one that I prefer a lot more.”

Emma’s mouth was suddenly very dry again. She took another drink of water, swallowing thick, and nodded. “I mean,” she muttered, and cleared her throat. “If it’s already paid for. You might as well.”

Emma wasn’t sure what she expected, but it definitely wasn’t for Angel to delicately take the glass of water from her grasp and set it down on the floor, out of reach. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

Emma felt hot. So hot. Her face was flushed, and her sleeves were too thick and too long and her jeans felt too tight and she was cursing this fucking flannel as she unbuttoned the top button while she watched Angel take only one step back. She was still close, so close. Emma could reach out her arms and pull her closer if she wanted to, but this definitely wasn’t that kind of place and she wasn’t that kind of girl.

If you asked her, Emma couldn’t tell you what song was playing. She couldn’t tell you what time it was. She couldn’t tell you the day of the week, or what she had for dinner that night, or who the fucking president was. But she could tell you, without a doubt, that this was the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen in her entire life, and as soon as she began to move her hips to the beat of the song, Emma would swear she almost blacked out.

“Holy shit.” She could barely recall the words escaping her lips, but the amused grin on Angel’s lips was imprinted on her brain.

Emma gripped at the fabric of her jeans as Angel took a half step closer and pulled her hair out of the ponytail so her loose curls fell around her face, and she flipped the hair to one side. Emma felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She inched closer and Angel was basically in Emma’s lap. She turned around and swayed her hips and Emma threw her arms to the side, out of the way.

“H—holy  _ shit _ .”

Emma had slept with women before, of course, but she had never been to a strip club, or gotten a strip tease or lap dance or whatever the fuck this was. I mean, she wasn’t taking off any clothing but she was already basically half naked.

Suddenly, Angel’s hands came up to her own shoulders and pulled down the sleeves of her shirt. She was already wearing very revealing clothing but the idea of even more skin laid out in front of Emma’s eyes made her think she was about to have an aneurysm.

Once the top slid off her shoulders and down her arms, Angel was left in what could barely be considered a bra. Emma’s eyes were glued to practically bare back, praying she would turn around. She felt guilty, but holy  _ fuck  _ she wanted more.

_ This is her job _ , Emma had to remind herself.  _ It’s okay to look at her. It’s okay to think about her. It’s okay to be really fucking turned on right now because this is her fucking job. _

As if reading Emma’s thoughts, Angel turned around so she was facing Emma. before Emma could get a good luck at what this bra looked like from the front or awkwardly stare at her chest, she felt a finger under her chin as Angel tilted her head up to meet her eyes. Her eyes were so dark and her pupils were wide. She must always look like this when she works with customers. Because that’s what Emma was, a customer.

The thought brought Emma back to reality as Angel continued to grind into her lap. It was hot, but it helped Emma keep her mental distance. She kept her hands firmly at her sides as her eyes trailed along every inch of exposed skin in front of her. Angel’s arms, as she gripped the back of the couch behind Emma’s head, her abs as they tensed under every movement, her thighs as she straddled Emma’s hips. Fuck.

Emma closed her eyes and her shoulders tensed. She could feel the heat of Angel’s body so close to hers. Her fists clenched in frustration, wishing she could reach out and run her fingers through those luscious curls.

_ Why do men enjoy this?  _ It’s a form of torture all its own, having someone so fucking beautiful in front of you, pretending that they want you, knowing that they’re not yours.

“Emma,” Angel’s voice husked in her ear. “Why are you so tense?”

Emma’s eyes flew open and she saw Angel’s face, inches from hers, eyes genuine and concerned and dark and endless and Emma was already getting lost in them again. “I’m—“ she stuttered. “You’re—I don’t—“ A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. This was supposed to help her relax but instead it was putting her even more on edge. “I’m sorry.”

There was no response, and Emma figured she was about to end their little session and leave her there, but instead she whispered, “You can touch me if you want.”

“What?”

Angel chuckled. “If that’ll help,” she muttered. Emma watched as she reached out and grasped both of her wrists at the same time. She slowly pulled them forward until both of Emma’s hands were resting on her thighs. “It’s okay, I promise.”

“I—I thought we weren’t supposed to…” Emma trailed off, losing her train of thought as her hips began to move again.

“It’s more of a soft rule,” Angel explained. “Usually we don’t allow it because we don’t know if people will get too aggressive. But I trust you.”

“Uh huh.” Emma’s voice came out as a squeak.

As she moved, Emma found it hard to concentrate on anything but the curve of her hips or the smirk on her lips, or how soft her hair felt when she turned her head and the curls bounced against her nose. All Emma could do was clutch at her hips, hope she wasn’t squeezing too tight, and try to remember to breathe.

Emma reacted instinctively as she saw Angel’s hands go up to remove her bra. Her own hand shot out and stopped her before she could get there. “You don’t have to do that,” Emma said with a frown.

“I don’t mind,” Angel said with a gentle smile. “It is my job.”

“I know, I know,” Emma muttered. She pulled Angel’s hands down and wriggled out from underneath her. “Everything else has been great, I swear. I don’t know, I would just feel weird about that. Personally.”

Angel’s lips pursed as she looked over Emma with a thoughtful contemplation. “You’re quite an interesting woman. Did you know that, Emma?”

Emma’s cheeks flushed. “I’ve been called a lot worse than interesting, so…”

“ _ Good _ interesting.”

Emma suddenly realized she was still holding onto Angel’s hands, who had made no move to pull away. She blushed even harder, then quickly let go and stood up. “I think I’m going to head out. Thanks for, uh, making my first time at a strip club not as awkward as it could have been.”

Angel laughed, and Emma committed the beautiful sound to her memory. She hoped she wasn’t too drunk because  _ god _ she wanted to remember that sound. “It was my pleasure. I’m guessing I won’t be seeing you again?”

Emma laughed awkwardly. “Probably not. But thank you. I know Angel’s probably not your real name, but you really have been kind of an angel dealing with me tonight.”

“Goodbye, Emma.”

“Um, bye.” Emma walked backwards as she left the room, wanting to hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. It was stupid, but she really had a nice time all thanks to this Angel, and she knew she would never come back here or probably to any other strip club again, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t forget the night very quickly.

As Emma walked back to her friends, she still felt hot, her jeans felt too tight, and she was still almost uncomfortably turned on. She really needed to get home and either take a really cold shower or just take care of it herself, and she had the whole ride home to decide which course of action to take.

Emma bid a quick farewell to Nick, and said something about having a headache before she called a Lyft on her phone. She wished him a happy birthday as she exited, and did one last scan of the room before she walked out the door, hoping for one last glimpse of Angel. She was nowhere to be found.

  
  
  
  


One week later, and Emma’s trip to the strip club was almost just a hazy memory. Her brain was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters, such as starting her last semester of college. Emma had already completed all her degree requirements, so she was just taking a bunch of interesting electives to fill the time in her schedule. And being a senior meant that she got first pick of all the coolest classes.

Emma shuffled into class Tuesday afternoon, an elective she found called The Philosophy of  _ Harry Potter _ . She wasn’t usually a huge fan of philosophy, but maybe her favorite book series would make it a lot more interesting.

She found a seat in the back left corner of the classroom, right by the window, and took out her books. The class was pretty full already, a few minutes before it was due to start, and as Emma scanned the room, she thought the mass of curls on the other side of the class looked oddly familiar. As she was about to shake the thought from her head, the sound of a laugh rang out in the room as the woman conversed with her friend.

Emma would recognize that laugh anywhere.

“Good afternoon, students,” came a voice from behind Emma. The professor entered through the back door of the classroom, and everyone turned their head in his direction as he spoke. Toward Emma.

Emma had already been looking at the woman, and as her gaze lingered, their eyes met. She held her breath for a moment, not sure if she was hoping the girl would recognize her or not, but Emma didn’t have to wait long for her answer. The woman’s eyes grew wide and she stared at Emma in disbelief, mouth agape. Emma gave her a small smile, but she immediately turned her head away.

Fuck.

Class was short. All they really did was go over the syllabus before everyone was free to go. Emma chanced one last glance back at the woman as she left, only to find that she had already made her exit, even leaving her friend in the dust. With a disappointed sigh, Emma gathered her belongings and left the room.

The moment she stepped outside, there was a hand on her wrist as she was being tugged down the hall. Before Emma could even realize what had happened, a door closed behind her and she was inside a dark closet. The light flicked on and there she was.

Angel.

Or, not Angel. Emma should really learn this girl’s name if they were going to be in a class together.

Seeing her up close all of a sudden, Emma realized how different she looked from the club the other night. She was a few inches shorter than Emma, who found herself looking down to meet her eyes. Her thick curls were less perfect, more messy, but Emma still wanted to run her fingers through them. She wasn’t even wearing makeup; her skin looked natural without any concealer covering up her blemishes or moles or freckles.

Her eyes, though, looked exactly the same, and Emma could already feel herself falling into them.

But she didn’t exactly look happy to see Emma. She looked almost panicked.

“You can’t tell anyone,” was the first thing she said.

“What?” Emma frowned, confused.

“About my job,” the woman said. “No one can know.”

“What are you… why would I tell anyone?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Blackmail? Revenge? I just—I’m interning at this amazing environmental nonprofit this year and I mean, it’s a nonprofit so they can’t really pay very well and I just need to finish paying for school and that’s where the other job comes in, but if my internship finds out they will for  _ sure _ fire me and I don’t know what I would do, I—“

“Hey,” Emma muttered. She reached out and grabbed her hands to reassure her. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

Her shoulders slumped in an immediate, relieved sigh, and suddenly, her arms were around Emma in an embrace. “Thank you.”

“I just have one question,” Emma said as she pulled back. The woman nodded. “Do other people not recognize you? I mean, you go to school in the city, you work in the city. I’m sure there’s plenty of guys here who have been to the club. Nick and his buddies are students.”

She gave a soft chuckle. “Most guys are too wasted and not to mention too stupid to recognize my face when they’re too busy staring at my tits.”

Emma blushed, as a flash of her revealing outfit from a week ago crossed her brain. “That’s fair.”

“And I usually try to fly under the radar at school. I’m not in any clubs or anything, and I don’t date because I have no idea how I would explain my job to a girlfriend, and people can get weird if they find out you’re a stripper so I don’t have a whole lot of friends, just a few close ones that I trust. So I just study and I intern and I work.”

Emma nodded. “That makes sense. You’re probably really busy.”

The woman seemed nervous, at a loss for words. “Well, um, thank you again. I appreciate it.” She brushed past Emma to leave the closet.

Before her hand could close around the doorknob, Emma spoke up before her brain caught up with what she was doing. “What’s your name?”

She froze and turned around, giving Emma a curious look. “What?”

“I still don’t know your name,” Emma muttered, blushing. “And I’d kind of like to.”

Slowly, her lips turned up into a timid smile. “Alyssa,” she said. “I’m Alyssa Greene.”

“I’m Emma Nolan,” Emma held out a hand to shake Alyssa’s. _Alyssa_ _Greene_. The touch lingered a little bit longer than necessary, reminiscent of when Emma first held onto her hand. “So how about that class, huh? I don’t know about you, but I’m excited.”

Alyssa giggled. “Yeah, I think it’ll be cool. I haven’t actually read Harry Potter before, so—”

“Wait, you haven’t read Harry Potter?” Emma gasped.

“Growing up my mom wouldn’t let me and I just never got around to it,” she explained. “So I figured this would be a good chance to read them. At least, I hope I don’t have to be already familiar with them.”

“Well… if you ever need help I could lend a hand,” Emma offered with a shrug, unsure of where her sudden confidence was coming from. “We could always study together. Grab dinner. Or lunch, if that works better with your schedule.”

Alyssa’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, and Emma found it oddly adorable. “What are you getting at?” Alyssa asked.

Emma cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “Um, I guess I’m sort of asking you out on a date. If you want.” She rubbed the back of her neck self consciously, hoping to appear a little more confident than she actually felt.

“Why?”

The question surprised Emma. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with  _ Alyssa _ , but she couldn’t imagine not wanting to get to know her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t find my job a little, you know, weird?”

Emma frowned. “That doesn’t matter to me. You’re so much more than what you do. I know I don’t know you very well, but I’d like to.”

Alyssa stepped closer. It was a small closet, so she was suddenly right in Emma’s personal space, but Emma didn’t mind. She still looked a little confused, but behind that was a timid smile. “Um, do you want to get lunch before class on Thursday?”

Emma bit her lip, trying to keep the stupidly giddy grinning to a minimum. “I’d like that.”

Alyssa bounced up on her toes and placed a soft kiss against Emma’s cheek, and her smile grew to something even giddier and stupider than before. It was brief, but her skin tingled where Alyssa’s lips had been. “I’ll see you Thursday.”

She backed out of the closet, leaving Emma stunned in silence, staring after her, wondering if that had actually just happened or if she was still asleep in her bed, dreaming of the beautiful stranger she met at the club.

  
  
  


One month and six dates later, Emma found herself at Alyssa’s apartment. It was small, but comfortable, and had a beautiful view of the city out the window that took her breath away.

Well, it was either the view that took her breath away or Alyssa’s lips on hers, kissing her thoroughly, deft fingers threaded in her hair, lightly tugging at the locks, a warm, curved body pressed right up against her chest as Emma’s back was against the cold glass window, and a warm, smooth tongue, pressing past her lips.

It was definitely at least one of those things that took Emma’s breath away.

Alyssa’s hands left her hair, trailing down her neck, smoothing the fabric of the shirt over Emma’s chest, before her fingers began to work at the top button of her flannel. She popped it open easily and as she made work of the next one, her lips left Emma’s.

Emma let out a frustrated whine, about to protest, but the words were forgotten on her lips when Alyssa’s tongue began to explore the newly exposed skin at the base of her neck.

Another button popped open. With each button, Alyssa’s hands moved further and further down her shirt, and her lips weren’t far behind. Her lips brushed against a sensitive bit of skin on Emma’s stomach, just above her jeans. She squirmed and breathed out a laugh. “That tickles,” she muttered, and pulled Alyssa up to kiss her firmly.

Alyssa’s hands wandered to Emma’s hips, holding her in place, brushing her thumbs against hot skin underneath the open shirt. Emma shivered and tangled her fingers in Alyssa’s loose curls. Alyssa’s fingers moved to the button of her jeans and popped it open. Emma froze.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she muttered against Alyssa’s lips, pushing her back lightly.

“Sorry,” Alyssa quickly apologized. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We can stop.”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Emma sighed. “Fuck, sorry. I just. I should tell you something.”

Alyssa raised a questioning eyebrow. “What’s up?” Emma smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the crease on her forehead.

“It’s nothing bad,” Emma explained. “Well, I guess, depends on how you take it.”

“Okay, now I’m even more confused.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Emma looked down at her feet, blushing furiously. “And I don’t know what you’ll think. But I feel weird about you not knowing.”

“Em, what is it?”

Emma cleared her throat. “Remember when we first met?”

“Which time?” Alyssa asked with a teasing smirk.

“The first time!” Emma clarified. “At the club. And we went into the room and you, uh, danced. For me.”

Alyssa leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I usually forget customers five minutes after they leave, but I remember that one very clearly.” She placed a kiss on the column of Emma’s neck, eliciting a small sigh.

“I—after I left, I was… I mean…”

“What?”

“Well, I mean, I was kind of drunk and you were really hot and I was really turned on…”

“And?”

Emma couldn’t bear to look Alyssa in the eyes, so she buried her face in her shoulder and the confession spilled out of her mouth as fast as she could say the words. “ _ Itouchedmyselfwhenigothomethatnight! _ ”

She couldn’t even read the look on Alyssa’s face, all she heard was stunned silence for a moment. “Sorry,” Alyssa said finally. “I’m not sure I caught that. Can you, um, say it a little slower?”

“Um, I couldn’t sleep that night because I was…”

“Turned on?”

“Yep. And so I um, I touched myself that night. Because of you.” Again, silence followed. Emma kept her face firmly planted on Alyssa’s shoulder, hiding in the safe cover of her hair. “Um, Alyssa?” she asked, after the silence was a little too much.

“Em, are you embarrassed?”

“Uh, obviously,” Emma chuckled awkwardly.

“Hey,” Alyssa sang into her ear and tilted her head up so their eyes met. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone masturbates. I do it all the time.”

“I know, but it’s  _ you _ . And I thought you might—“

“Hey, I know what my job entails, I signed up for it.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

Alyssa shook her head. “No,” she said, then leaned into Emma to whisper in her ear. “It is kind of hot, though.”

Emma froze. “Wh—what?”

“Mhm,” Alyssa husked in her ear, making her shiver, reigniting the fire in her gut. “The thought of you thinking about me while you touch yourself is...really hot.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She tugged on Emma’s earlobe with her teeth, then moved down to place wet, open mouthed kisses along her jaw. “You know, I’ve thought about you too.”

Emma’s throat was suddenly so dry. “Really?” She swallowed.

“Yeah,” Alyssa muttered, moving down to kiss her neck. “The other night when you dropped me off, after we were making out in your truck.” Alyssa’s words and tongue were driving Emma crazy, and when she sucked lightly on a sensitive bit of skin, Emma whined and gripped her hair tighter, pulling her closer. “Em, you are so hot, and the things I thought about you doing to me, well, I’d  _ really  _ like to try them in real life sometime. If you want.”

The way Alyssa’s dark eyes regarded her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world gave Emma a new surge of confidence. She wrapped her arms around Alyssa’s waist and lifted her, spinning them around and pinning her against the window. “I would definitely like that,” she muttered, and kissed her again.


End file.
